Underneath It All
by isabella2004
Summary: When the cop daughter of a politically ambitious New York Senator gatecrashes the team's murder case, Fin finds himself getting more than he bargained for. CHAPTER FIVE UP!
1. Default Chapter

I don't own any of the characters in SVU, bar the original ones!

It was a night like any other in New York City. Mid-July, and the night time heat was oppressive, bearing down on the unsuspecting individual. It was a night for sitting at home with a cool drink and the air conditioning cranked right up. It was not a night for investigating murders.

"What have we got?" Odafin Tutuola asked his partner as he ducked underneath the crime scene tape.

"Nice of you to join us," John Munch replied, "hope we didn't drag you away from anything important."

"You know me, I'm a beer and football kinda guy," Fin replied.

"Yeah, right," John replied disbelievingly, "Anyway, this is what we got." He led the way over to where Amelia Warner was bent over the dead body of a young woman, "She was found by a jogger about an hour ago. Looks like she's been beat up pretty bad."

Fin looked down at the victim. She couldn't have been more than eighteen, wearing a pink top and not much else. Her pants and panties had been ripped off and were lying a few feet away, and the pool of congealed blood underneath her long blonde hair indicated she had been hit over the head. He felt an overwhelming sense of pity. She was someone's kid after all.

"I'd estimate she died at least six to eight hours ago," Warner said, straightening up, "Looks like one blow to the back to the head, but I can't be sure until I get her on the table."

"Raped?" Fin asked, as if he needed to.

Warner nodded, "Looks that way. Bruising on the inner thighs. And blood," she grimaced, "He was rough with her."

"Murder weapon?" Munch pointed to a bloody brick lying next to the body.

"More than likely."

"Weapon of convenience," Fin mused.

"Hey guys!" One of the crime scene techs came hurrying up, holding a black purse, "Found this in the bushes. Cell, wallet and keys still inside."

"So it wasn't a robbery then," Munch commented wryly.

"No, it's worse," the tech said, a note of excitement pervading his tone, "You'll never guess who she is."

"Surprise me," Munch said.

"Felicity Charles. You know, Roger Charles's daughter?"

"The airline guy?" Fin asked. The tech nodded, "Wasn't he supposed to be hosting some big party at the Waldorf tonight?"

Munch nodded, "So what was Felicity doing out here in the middle of the night?" he turned to his partner, "and why didn't Daddy report her missing?"

Fin shrugged, "Maybe he was too busy raising money."

SSSSSS

"She was definitely raped," Warner told them a few hours later. Felicity lay on the table in the autopsy room, a sheet pulled up over her naked body, her blonde hair the only splash of colour against her lifeless face. "I found semen. Your perp didn't bother to use a condom."

"Have you run it yet?" Munch asked.

"No matches in the system. Your boy's a first timer."

"Maybe not a first time murderer," Fin said, "What else did you find?"

"Bruising on her upper arms, indicating she was held down. Also, fibres under her fingernails, most likely from his clothes. She put up one hell of a struggle before he beat her over the head."

"With the brick?"

Warner nodded, "Yeah, the blood on the brick matches Felicity's. She was struck from behind at an angle."

"She was running away?" Munch volunteered.

"No, I don't think so," Warner pulled up the sheet to reveal Felicity's knees, "There was gravel embedded on her knees. Looks as though she was kneeling down in front of him."

"Sounds ritualistic," Fin said.

"Whatever it was, he knew what he was doing," Warner said grimly.

SSSSSS

Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler arrived at the Charles family home to find the place in utter chaos. People were running around everywhere, the media were already camped outside, and CSU were going through Felicity's room. Roger Charles and his wife Georgina were sat in the plush living room, clearly distressed by what had happened.

"Mr and Mrs Charles?" Olivia asked softly, "I'm Detective Benson, this is my partner Detective Stabler. We're so very sorry for your loss."

"Do you know who did it yet?" Roger Charles asked, his face creased with distress.

"We're still investigating," Olivia said, sitting down opposite them, "Can you tell us about last night?"

Mr Charles sighed heavily, "We were at the Waldorf hosting our annual charity function. Felicity was there with her sister at eight when we were greeting guests, but…" he tailed off, "but we didn't see her again after that." He let out a painful cry, "We should have been watching her."

"Did Felicity talk to anyone at the party?"

"Everyone," Mrs Charles supplied, "She was always so friendly and open to everyone. People used to comment on how she should be on TV."

"Did she have any friends there with her?" Elliot asked.

"Samantha. Samantha Baxter," Mrs Charles replied, "Felicity brings her to all our parties. She doesn't come from a very good home and Felicity always liked to share the limelight with Samantha whenever she could." She started crying again, "Who would do this to our baby?"

"May we speak to your other daughter?" Olivia asked.

Mr Charles nodded, "Vanessa's in her room. Upstairs, third door on the left. She's been devastated by this too."

The detectives left the Charles' in the capable hands of the family liaison unit and made their way upstairs to Vanessa's room. When they knocked and entered, they found Vanessa sitting on her bed, holding onto a teddy bear.

"Hi there," Olivia said, "I'm Olivia and this is my friend Elliot. You're Vanessa right?" The girl nodded, "How old are you?"

"Eleven."

"You were at the party with your sister?" Vanessa nodded, "Did you spend the whole night with her?"

Vanessa shook her head, "She didn't want me hanging around with her all night. She wanted to hang out with Sam and the guys."

"What guys?" Elliot asked.

Vanessa shrugged, "I don't know their names. They're Felicity's friends from college."

"How many were there?"

"Three," she replied.

"And, can you tell us anything about them?" Olivia asked.

Vanessa thought hard, "One of them had a beard and he smelt funny."

"Funny how?"

"Like horses."

Olivia scribbled that down, "What about Samantha? Was she with Felicity the whole night?"

"They were talking with the guys for a long time and then they just left."

"Did your parents know they had gone?"

"No, they were too busy talking to their friends." Vanessa clutched her teddy tighter, "Is whoever killed Felicity going to come back for me?"

"No sweetheart," Olivia reassured her, "Nobody is going to come and get you. I promise."

SSSSSS

"So, what do we have?" Cragen asked, when all four were back at the station.

"We've got Felicity, murdered under the bridge," Fin said, pinning up a picture on the board, "First she was raped, violently…"

"Then Warner reckons she was forced to kneel in front of her attacker to let him bash her brains in," Munch added.

"What did the parents say?" Cragen asked.

"They only saw Felicity at the start of the evening," Olivia relayed, "After that…"

"They were too busy schmoozing," Elliot finished for her, "Vanessa Charles says that Felicity and this Samantha Baxter were whispering away all night with three unidentified guys."

"One of whom smelled like a horse," Olivia said.

"Sounds like my ex-wife," Munch said.

"Which one?" Fin asked.

"All of them."

"Did Ma and Pa know who the guys were?" Cragen asked.

Olivia shook her head, "The only person they remember Felicity asking to bring was Samantha. We checked with security, but unfortunately, entrance to the party was not strictly controlled."

"An important event like that and they don't know who's coming or going?" Cragen echoed in disbelief.

"Apparently so. The hotel says that it was a private security firm that was hired for the night, nothing to do with them."

"Of course, deny all liability," Cragen sighed, "Ok, Munch, Fin, go talk to Samantha Baxter, see if she can shed any light on our smelly friends. Elliot, Olivia, go over to the security firm and ask them about the party. Someone must have seen something."

SSSSSS

When Samantha Baxter opened the door to her apartment, the first thing Munch and Fin noticed was the bruise on her face. She positioned her body between the doorframe and the door, clearly reluctant to let them in.

"Yes?"

"Samantha Baxter?" Fin asked, holding up his badge. She nodded, "I'm Detective Tutuola, this is Detective Munch. Can we talk to you?"

"What about?"

"How about the fact your best friend was murdered last night and you were one of the last people to see her?" Munch asked. "Can we come in?"

Samantha opened the door wider and allowed them to come in. The apartment looked like that of a typical student. Clothes and books lying everywhere, dirty dishes piled up in the kitchen sink.

"You like it tidy, don't you?" Fin remarked sarcastically.

"What do you want to know?" Samantha asked, ignoring the comment.

"Let's start with who was with you and Felicity at the party last night," Munch said.

"No-one, it was just the two of us. And Vanessa."

"That's not what she says," Fin said, "According to her, you and Felicity were hanging around with three guys all night."

"One of whom smelled like a horse," Munch added.

Samantha looked uncomfortable, "I don't know who they are. Felicity brought them. They're her friends from college."

"You and Felicity, you're doing the same course, right?" Munch asked, "Business management, or something equally highbrow." Samantha nodded, "So how come she's got friends you don't know?"

"We're not joined at the hip," she shot back, "we're allowed to see other people."

"So when these guys showed up last night, Felicity didn't even bother to introduce you?" Fin asked.

Samantha thought for a moment, "I think one of them was called Al, or something."

"Or something?"

"I don't know, I was drunk!"

"Is that how you got that bruise?" Munch looked at her over his glasses.

Her fingers instantly went to her face, "I walked into a door."

Munch sighed, "You know how many times we hear that in the space of a few days? Someone gave you a smack, now who was it? One of the guys at the party?"

"I told you," Samantha looked at him defiantly, "I walked into a door."

"Yeah, and I'm Diane Sawyer."

SSSSSS

At the security firm, 'Pete's Protectors,' Elliot and Olivia were having just as little success. The men who had been assigned to the party the previous night were mysteriously absent from work and no-one seemed to have any clue as to where they were. Finally, after being stonewalled for the best part of twenty minutes, Pete Davis, the owner, agreed to see them.

"What can I do for you detectives?" he asked, showing them into his office.

"We've been standing around for nearly a half hour already Mr Davis, so don't insult our intelligence by pretending you don't know why we're here," Elliot replied, with his ever pleasant smile, "The Charles' party."

"Ah, yes," Pete said, sitting down behind his desk, "I heard on the news that their daughter was murdered. Terrible thing."

"Your _helpful _employees told us that you had three guys working security last night," Olivia flicked through her notebook, "Johnny O'Reilly, Mark Watson and Ricky Brown, is that correct?"

"I'll have to check my records," Pete stalled.

"Please do," Elliot encouraged him.

He flipped through a book, "Yes, those were the men I assigned for the job."

"Three guys isn't a lot for a big benefit party like the Charles'," Olivia observed, "Do you always do their security?"

"No, no this was the first time."

"And why did they pick you?"

Pete shrugged, "I got a call from Mr Charles personal assistant to say that I had been recommended by a friend of the families and that they would like to book me for the evening."

"Which friend?" Elliot asked.

"I have no idea."

"You do a lot of work for the rich and famous?"

Pete shrugged again, "From time to time."

"So, surely you must have an idea of who might have recommended you."

Pete stood up, "As much as I'd like to help you Detectives, I really can't go around giving out my client lists without seeing a warrant."

"Can we speak with Mr O'Reilly, Mr Watson and Mr Brown?" Olivia asked.

"If you can find them, by all means."

"Your staff said they hadn't shown up this morning."

"That's correct."

Elliot frowned, "That doesn't strike you as odd?"

"Believe me Detective, nothing those three do would ever strike me as odd."

SSSSS

"What did he mean by _that_?" Munch asked as they relayed the story.

"No idea," Olivia replied, "He clammed right up after that, said he had an important consultation to go to. How did you get on with Samantha?"

"Well she claims she has no idea what Vanessa's talking about regarding the three guys," Fin said, pouring himself a coffee, "And she's sporting a nice shiner."

"Which she claims she received from an irate door," Munch added wryly. "But she was definitely hiding something. She couldn't get us out of there fast enough."

"So, we've got Vanessa, putting three guys at the scene with Felicity and Samantha, Samantha claiming there was no-one, and the three guys assigned from the security company have gone AWOL." Olivia said. "Connection?"

"Vanessa would have said if the men she saw had been security," Elliot said.

"But if they were wearing tuxedos, they probably blended right in," Olivia countered, "How would an eleven year old know the difference?"

"Doesn't the Waldorf have CCTV?" Munch asked.

"Sure, but not in the function suite," Elliot replied.

"Yeah, but the security guys, and everyone going in and out of that party must have been caught on tape at some point."

"I'll call CSU" Olivia said, "Get them to check all the tapes from last night. Did we hear back from them regarding Felicity's room?"

"Nothing suspicious, except some condoms," Elliot said, reading out the report, "Well, she was eighteen after all."

"Mom and Dad never mentioned a boyfriend," Olivia said.

"Maybe they don't know," Fin offered, "wouldn't be the first rich chick to have a bad boy on the side that the folks wouldn't approve of."

"You talking from experience?" Munch asked.

"I wish," Fin replied.

Cragen came out of his office, "We have a slight problem."

"What?" Olivia asked.

"Because of the nature of the crime and the fact that Felicity Charles is the kid of one of New York's wealthiest families, the police commissioner was called before the Senate Committee on Crime this morning. They want the case turned over to the FBI."

"FBI?" Elliot said, "What the hell for? They think they could solve it any faster than we could?"

"Whoa, whoa, hang on," Cragen held up his hands, "The Commissioner's not stupid, and he happens to be an old friend of mine, so he gave as good as he got."

"He'd have to," Munch said, "Senator Richard Whelan is the head of that committee and he's got a bee in his bonnet about rape homicides."

"Well, they came to an agreement of sorts," Cragen continued, "Turns out, Whelan's daughter, Cassandra, is a cop with Brooklyn SVU, with a direct line to the old man himself and pretty much a large helping of his father's aims and endeavours, so…" he paused for breath, "She's coming to join us in the investigation."

"Great," Elliot threw down the papers he was holding, "Just what we need. Some politician's kid coming in here, messing up our case and running back to report to Daddy every ten minutes."

"This is the compromise, take it or leave it. We don't accept, we lose the case altogether," Cragen informed his detective, "Now, when Detective Whelan gets here, you're all going to treat her just like any other cop. Remember, she's already one of us." He turned and headed back to his office.

"We might as well pack up and go home," Munch said.

"Who is this Whelan guy anyway?" Fin asked.

"Don't you watch CNN?" his partner asked.

"I got better things to do with my evenings."

"He's a political heavyweight who thinks the city's rotten to the core with criminals," Munch replied, "He ran for the presidency a few years back but Clinton saw him off. When his daughter joined the force, the rumour was that she was some kind of plant."

"Plant?"

"Yeah, she got promotion to detective two years after signing up and right into a plum job in Homicide. Few years later, she's in SVU, feeding Daddy all the gory details about the terrible cancer in our society. Most of Whelan's statements and decisions within the committee are said to come from little Cassandra's insider information."

"We can't let her turn this case into a political sideshow," Elliot urged.

"You're the one who doesn't know her father, she'll probably latch onto you," Munch warned his partner.

"Don't worry," Fin said, "_I _ain't gonna let that happen."


	2. Chapter Two

Cassandra Whelan had been smiling so long her face was beginning to hurt. During the whole painful half hour, she had thought about trying to smile in different ways, wondering if she could manage it without the headlines screaming the next morning about how she looked as though she was having a stroke. The flashbulbs had left spots dancing in front of her eyes and if her father had had his arm around her any tighter, her blood supply would have been constricted and surgeons would be removing the dead flesh by now. She hated all this political crap, hated being used as some kind of pawn in her father's quest across the chessboard to the White House. She didn't even vote Republican.

"That's all everybody, thank you very much," Senator Whelan, the people's man, waved a final farewell at his adoring press and then ushered his daughter back into the building, "Well that went very well, don't you think?"

"If you say so," Cassandra replied, rubbing her arm where his fingers had been pressed against her. "Quite frankly, I'm not sure what purpose that whole charade served."

"To ease public fears," he replied smoothly, as if she were a reporter trying to trip him up, "the people of New York are frightened Cassandra, they need something to believe in."

"And me joining Manhattan SVU in the quest to find the killer of some little rich girl is going to do that?"

"Don't be so petty," her father replied as his personal assistant ran to keep up, passing him papers to sign, "It's just as good for your career as it is for mine."

"Despite the fact you never even asked me if I wanted to do it," she persisted, "that you didn't stop to think how it makes _me _look?"

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about the fact that everyone already thinks I got into the police force through the back door, that I didn't pay my dues in uniform like everyone else."

"You served your two years."

"And then, overnight, I magically became detective!"

"Cassandra, what would you rather I did? Not use my influence to help you, my only child, climb to great heights?"

"I don't want great heights," she grumbled, "I just want people, other cops, to be able to talk to me without worrying that what they're saying is going to get back to the wrong people.

Senator Whelan laughed, "You make it sound as if you're undercover for Internal Affairs."

"I might as well be, for all anyone trusts me."

He stopped walking and turned to face her, "Despite what you might think, Cassandra, I do have your best interests at heart. And…" he held up his hand to stop her speaking over him, "A young girl has been murdered. I'm sure her parents would appreciate all the man power available to catch her killer." Cassandra was forced into silence, knowing she couldn't argue with that sentiment. "Good, now, I'm heading back to Washington this afternoon. I'm sure you'll fit in splendidly with the officers at Manhattan. Don't forget to keep me appraised." He kissed her swiftly on the cheek and then hurried off down the corridor, leaving Cassandra standing like a lost child in a supermarket.

SSSSS

"Tracked down O'Reilly," Olivia said, putting the phone down, "He skipped the country. Got on a flight bound for Amsterdam first thing this morning, before Felicity's body was even discovered."

"Hardly the actions of an innocent man," Munch commented, "What about the other two?"

"Zip," Elliot said, "No sign of them at their apartments, no-one's seen them since the party…" he rubbed his eyes, "What about you guys?"

"I might have something," Fin said, "I went through Felicity's address book. Turns out that she used to be friends with another girl, Tiffany Lewis, when they were at school. They stopped hanging out once Felicity went to college."

"So?" Munch asked, clearly unimpressed.

"Well, Tiffany has a horse stabled in the Bronx and according to her mother, Felicity used to go there with her all the time."

"That's where she might have met horse-man," Olivia said, "We put Vanessa together with a sketch artist, maybe we can identify him. Any luck on a boyfriend?"

"Only one guy listed in the address book," Fin relayed, "Tommy West. Address not far from the Charles'."

"Ok, we'll go to the stables see what we can dig up, you two go see West," Olivia said.

SSSSS

"Tiffany Lewis?" Elliot asked, as he and Olivia approached a young girl grooming a chestnut horse.

She looked up at them as they approached, "Yes?"

"Police," Olivia held up her badge, "Detective Benson, this is Detective Stabler. Can we talk to you about Felicity Charles?"

Tiffany stopped what she was doing and sighed, "Sure, but I'm not sure what I can tell you. Me and Flick weren't that close any more."

"When's the last time you saw her?" Elliot asked.

"Must be about three months ago. I ran into her at a party, but we didn't talk, not really."

"Define not really."

Tiffany shrugged, "We said hi, she walked away. She was with her 'new' friends," her tone was bitter.

"Was it Felicity's choice to end the friendship?" Olivia asked.

"Yeah, if you could call it that. She pretty much does what Samantha tells her to do."

"Samantha Baxter?"

Tiffany nodded, "Ever since Felicity met Samantha she's been different."

"Different how?"

"Not been as nice, dissing people she used to be friends with. Now she only talks to the so-called cool crowd."

"Who's in this cool crowd?" Elliot took out his notebook.

"Well, Flick and Samantha of course. Then there's a couple of other girls, I don't know their names, and Ricky."

"Ricky Brown?"

Tiffany nodded, "He's like the head guy. All the girls think he's cute."

"You think he's cute?"

"Please," Tiffany snorted, in a way that indicated she was lying, "He's a loser. He thinks he's so brilliant just because his horse has won loads of awards."

Olivia pulled out the picture that Vanessa Charles had helped the sketch artist draw, "This Ricky?"

Tiffany looked at the picture, "Yeah, that's him."

"Do you know a Johnny O'Reilly or a Mark Watson?" Elliot asked, "We think they might work with Ricky at the security firm."

"Sorry," Tiffany replied, "I only know Ricky."

"Thanks for your help," Olivia said. "So, Ricky's quite the Casanova," she said as she and Elliot walked away.

"Maybe he's the mystery boyfriend."

SSSSSS

Cassandra was still sitting at her desk in Brooklyn by the early afternoon. She was putting off going to Manhattan as long as was humanely possible, despite the fact that all her cases had been temporarily reassigned and she had no work to do. Manhattan had helpfully faxed her the information they had so far on the Charles' murder and she was sitting looking over the crime scene reports, trying to see if there was anything anybody had missed.

"You still here?" her partner Jack Lampard said, coming up behind her, "Thought you would have gone by now."

"Yeah," she sighed, "putting it off."

"Scared they're gonna see through you?"

"Very funny," she replied. Jack was the only one in the squad who could make cracks like that and get away with it. She knew deep down that he respected her as his partner and would defend her against any other cops who tried to browbeat her.

"Saw Daddy on the news," he said, sitting down opposite her, "Quite the media junkie, isn't he?"

"Tell me about it. Wouldn't be quite so bad if he didn't drag me up there with him," Cassandra lifted one of the typewritten reports and studied it closely, "Hey Jack. You remember that rape homicide we dealt with a couple of months back. Victim found in the dumpster?"

"Uh…yeah, sure. Vicky Taylor. Perp turned out to be her brother," Jack shuddered.

"Didn't we suspect her boyfriend in the beginning?"

"Yeah, some security guy."

"Mark Watson," Cassandra waved the report, "Turns out, he was part of the security detail at the Charles' party last night."

Jack whistled, "Daddy's gonna love that."

Cassandra stood up quickly, "I'd better get over to Manhattan."

"Good luck. Don't be too long. You know I'm gonna go crazy here without you."

"Yeah right," she tossed her empty coffee cup at him.

SSSSS

Tommy West had clearly just woken up, judging by the bleary-eyed look he gave Munch and Fin when they arrived at his door. "What do you want?" he asked dopily.

"Police," Munch informed him, "We want to talk to you about Felicity Charles."

"I don't know anything," he replied, rubbing his nose.

"Your name was in her address book," Munch continued.

"I haven't seen her in weeks." Tommy insisted.

"You smell something?" Fin asked his partner.

"Yeah, smells like dope. You want us to come in and bust your ass?" Munch demanded.

"Ok, ok," Tommy opened the door wider, "You can come in. But I still can't tell you anything."

"Wrong answer, Tommy," Fin headed straight for the kitchen where some clear plastic bags were lying on the counter, "What do we have here?"

"Look man, it's just a bit of weed, ok? It's not that big a deal!"

"It is if we haul you down the precinct," Fin told him, "So, Felicity Charles."

Tommy sighed, "Ok. I saw her last night at the party."

"Did you have an invite?"

"No, I gate-crashed. Mr Charles has made it very clear in the past that he doesn't like me."

"Why's that Tommy? You seem like an upstanding citizen to me," Munch said.

"He caught Felicity smoking one time and he thinks its all my fault."

"Smoking dope?" Fin asked. Tommy nodded, "When was this?"

"Bout six months ago. He freaked, told me I was corrupting his baby girl. Like she wasn't already."

"You and Felicity dated?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it dating exactly," Tommy smiled, "but we had a good time if you know what I mean."

"Unfortunately I do," Munch replied, "You have sex with Felicity last night?"

"No, course not. Everyone was watching. Where would we have done it?"

"You were in a hotel," Fin said.

"Well, we didn't. Besides, Felicity was too wrapped up in the other guys that were there."

"Who?"

"Some security guys. She knew one of 'em from some stables she used to go to. They were talking together all night."

"Well, you won't mind giving us a DNA sample then, will you?" Munch said.

"Sure," Tommy shrugged, "No problem."

SSSSSS

"He gave it up too easy," Fin said back at the precinct, "He's not our guy."

"So that leaves Johnny, Mark and Ricky," Olivia said.

"One of whom has already skipped the country and the other two are nowhere to be found," Elliot said, "We've got officers watching the stables in case Ricky makes an appearance."

"So Ricky hangs out with the popular kids at Felicity's college," Cragen said, "He a student there?"

"Art history would you believe," Elliot said, "His job at the security firm is part time."

"What about Johnny and Mark?" Munch asked.

"Both in their early thirties, no evidence they have any other jobs outside of the security firm and apart from the party, there's no connection between them and Felicity." Olivia relayed, "Tiffany Lewis only knew Ricky."

"Well, Tommy West confirmed that the three amigos at the party talking to Felicity were indeed the security guys, so we're not looking for anyone else," Munch said.

"Samantha's still not telling the truth," Fin said, "She had to get that bruise from somewhere and I doubt it was a door."

"What about the CCTV?" Cragen asked.

"Tapes show all three security guys, Felicity and Samantha at the party. You'll need to check them to see if Tommy shows up," Elliot gestured to Munch and Fin, "They also show Felicity leaving the party around eleven with a guy wearing a tuxedo. He's got his head down though so we can't see who he is."

"Samantha?" Cragen asked.

"No evidence she left the party at all," Olivia said, "So if she got that bruise last night, it must have happened at the party."

"The Charles' gave you the guest list, right?" Cragen said, "Canvas it, talk to everyone who was there, see if anyone noticed any disagreement between Felicity, Samantha or anybody. Right now it's the best chance we got."

SSSSSS

Cassandra got no joy at Mark Watson's address and the lady next door told her Mark hadn't been there since the day before. She also told her, that two other cops had already been by and she had told them the same thing. Realising that her counterparts in Manhattan obviously already had Watson in their sights, she was preparing to back off. Until she came out of the building and caught sight of another guy they had interviewed in the Vicky Taylor murder, a close friend of Watson's."

"Hey Terry," she greeted him as he came up the steps, "Long time no see."

Terry groaned, "What you bustin' my ass for? I ain't done nothing. I didn't do nothing then, and I ain't done nothing now!"

"I'm not here to get you Terry. I need your help."

"Why the hell should I help you?" Terry pushed past her, "You wanted to get me for murdering that girl last time."

"And we know it wasn't you. Listen, I need to find Mark."

"You tried to nail his ass too, and he was innocent," Terry said forcefully.

"Yes he was. But someone else has been killed and Mark's looking good for being involved."

"Damn, that's what you said last time."

"I know, but this time it looks really good. Now I need to find him. You seen him since last night?"

Terry paused, "What's in it for me?"

"Your civic duty," she replied, "plus I happen to know you were busted for crack a few weeks ago. I've got some friends in Narcotics, might be able to help you."

Terry sighed, "He went out last night, all dressed up, said he was doing security for some big party at the Waldorf."

"Yeah, and?"

"And I ain't seen him since!" Terry exclaimed, "Now, if you don't mind…"

"Where would Mark go?" Cassandra asked, "If he felt he couldn't come home, where would he go?" Terry didn't say anything, "Come on Terry."

"He's been seeing this chick, Laquisha Thomson. She's got a place on 96th Street. That's all I know, ok?" he pushed past her.

"Thanks Terry," she replied, "that's all I need."

SSSSSS

"So when can we expect the lovely Detective Whelan to grace us with her presence?" Munch said, "Or is she too busy being briefed by Daddy?"

"She should be here by the end of the day," Cragen informed him, "and I don't want any backlash from this, ok?"

"Sure," Munch said, "I'm a welcoming kind of a guy."

"Yeah right," Fin said from his own desk.

"What, I didn't welcome you when you came here?"

"Did anything turn up from the canvas?" Cragen asked, steering the conversation back on course.

"Not much on Felicity," Olivia said, "Nobody saw any kind of disagreement happening between her and anybody. It's just like her parents described her, friendly and welcoming."

"No-one saw her leave?" Cragen asked.

"Well, if the security guys were involved somehow, they're not likely to bring it to Ma and Pa's attention now, are they?" Elliot said.

"Point taken. What about Samantha?"

"That's a different story," Olivia continued, "At least three people saw her arguing with a young guy, spiky hair, described by at least two of them as 'a little spaced out.'"

"Let me guess," Fin said, "Tommy West."

"Description fits," Olivia said.

"Ok, Munch, Fin, bring Tommy in for a sit down. He obviously knows more than he's letting on."

SSSSS

"We know you argued with Samantha Baxter at the party," Munch told Tommy once they had him in interview.

"No I didn't."

"We got witnesses. People who say it was a young guy with spiky hair who was, and I quote, 'a little spaced out.'"

"I was _not _high," Tommy insisted.

"But you were there?" Fin pounced.

"Of course I was. I already told you that I crashed."

"And you argued with Samantha."

"No, I…"

"Tommy, it's not looking good for you. Samantha's sporting one hell of a shiner," Munch said, "You argued with her, chances are, you hit her too."

"No I didn't!" Tommy sighed in desperation, "I argued with her, sure, but I didn't hit her."

"So, tell us what happened," Fin said.

"Samantha and Felicity were arguing. They slipped off to one of the side rooms. Felicity hit Samantha."

"Why?"

"I don't know, something about Felicity thinking Samantha was coming onto her boyfriend."

"Who was her boyfriend?" Munch asked.

"One of the security guys. I think his name was Rick, or something."

"Ricky Brown?"

Tommy nodded, "That was it, yeah."

"How long had Felicity been seeing him?"

"Couple of months. It was pretty hot and heavy from what Samantha told me. She said that Ricky liked it rough."

"She talking from personal experience?" Fin asked.

"Samantha and Ricky apparently had a thing a few years back. Felicity was worried it was starting up again. That's why she warned Samantha to back off."

"Then what happened?"

"Felicity left the party just before I did."

"Did she leave with Ricky?" Munch asked.

Tommy shook his head, "No, Ricky didn't want to go. Said it was more than his job's worth."

"So who did she leave with?"

"One of the other guys, Mark Watson."

SSSSSS

Having done some digging, Laquisha Thomson's name had come up in connection with Mark Watson and so, armed with a SWAT unit, the team headed to her apartment on 96th Street. They assembled quietly outside and then Fin knocked on the door.

"Police! Mark Watson we got a warrant for your arrest. Come out quietly or we'll come in!" There was no response. "Ok, go!"

The armed officers broke the door down and everyone flooded in. There was no sign of either Mark or Laquisha, but one of the officers yelled from the bedroom that he had found someone. The team rushed in, in time to see a woman on her knees on the floor, her hands behind her head.

"This is a mistake!" she was yelling, "If you just let me…"

"Shut up," Fin said, grabbing her arm and pulling her to her feet, "You Laquisha Thomson?"

"I look like I am?" she demanded.

"Then who the hell are you?"

She wrenched her arm from his grip and fixed him with an angry glare, "I'm Detective Cassandra Whelan, Brooklyn SVU. Who the hell are you?"


	3. Chapter Three

"What the hell were you playing at?" Cragen demanded of Cassandra once the team returned to the station.

"I was following a lead," she replied. "My partner and I questioned Mark Watson six months ago in connection with a rape homicide. When I saw his name in the crime report, it jumped out at me. I went to his apartment and his friend Terry…"

"Save it," Cragen held up his hand, "I'm not really interested in the whys and wherefores. I don't know about Brooklyn but here in Manhattan, we work as a team. No-one, I repeat, no-one goes off on their own. You could have been killed."

"Let's not pretend that my personal safety is what you're really concerned with Captain," Cassandra replied.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not stupid, I know I'm not wanted here, not by you and certainly not by your detectives," she thought back to the painful encounter she had had with them at Mark Watson's apartment, "And God knows, I didn't ask to be put on this investigation. But I'm here and everybody's just going to have to deal with it."

Cragen stepped out from behind his desk and eyeballed her, "Detective Whelan, I don't care how you speak to your superiors in your own precinct. I don't even care how you speak to your own father, but you do not, speak to me in that manner. While you're here, you'll give me the respect my rank demands. Do you understand?"

Cassandra sighed heavily, "Yes sir."

"Good, I'm glad we understand each other. Now I suggest you go out there and you apologise to the others, because you're going to need their trust and loyalty during the course of this investigation." He opened his door, "And don't think you're going to get any special favours," he added, "You may be Senator Whelan's daughter, but in here, you're just another detective, got it?"

Cassandra nodded, and left the office, suitably chastised. When she walked back into the squad room, a silence descended, and she knew they had been discussing her. "If anybody's got anything to say, they should say it to my face," she challenged them.

"Don't tempt me," Munch said from his desk,

"Look, I'm sorry, ok? I was trying to help you guys. Believe it or not, that's all I'm here to do."

"Yeah right," Elliot said, "that and spy for Daddy."

"I'm nobody's spy," Cassandra retorted, "I'm a cop just like the rest of you."

"So why did Daddy put you in here then?" Munch asked, "He think you're going to crack the core of crime in New York and give him some dazzling insight that he can take to the voters on election day?"

"I don't control what my father does."

"No, you just do what he tells you," Munch continued.

Cassandra walked over to his desk, "You know something Detective? I really couldn't give a shit what you think about me. I'm here to do a job and nothing else. The sooner you accept that and let me get on with it, the sooner I can be out of your hair and back to my own comfy desk in Brooklyn, ok?"

"Fine by me," Munch replied, "Just don't expect any favours."

Cragen came back out of his office holding a sheet of paper, "I just got a call from the port authorities. They stopped Mark Watson and Laquisha Thomson just before they got on a plane to Paris. They're holding them at the airport for us."

"Finally," Olivia stood up, "some _good _news."

"I want all of you over there. Olivia, you and Elliot take Watson, Munch, Fin, you two talk to Laquisha. You…" he gestured to Cassandra, "Tag along in the Laquisha interview."

"Great," Munch groaned. "That's all we need."

SSSSSS

"So Mark," Olivia said, as she and Elliot entered the room where Watson was being held, "You thinking of skipping the country?"

"I know my rights," he said stubbornly, "and I don't have to say jack shit to you people."

"You're right, you don't," Olivia continued, "But you'd better, seeing as you're looking good for Felicity Charles' murder."

"I didn't touch the bitch," Mark scowled.

"But you were with her at the party last night," Elliot confirmed.

Mark shrugged, "I might have seen her there."

"Witnesses say you were pretty tight all night. In fact, one witness puts you leaving the party with Felicity."

"So?"

"So, that means you were the last person to see her alive," Olivia said, "What happened, Mark? You take her somewhere to have sex, she backed out, you got angry…"

"No."

"But you did have sex with her."

"There any point in me denying it?"

"Not once we match your DNA," Elliot said, "You should have used a condom."

Mark sighed, "We went for a drive. Felicity was angry with Samantha."

"Samantha Baxter."

"Yeah. Felicity said Samantha was flirting with her boyfriend, Ricky."

"You and Ricky work security together?" Olivia asked.

"Sure, at Pete's Protectors."

"You known him long?"

Ricky shrugged, "Couple of months."

"Was Samantha flirting with him?" Elliot asked.

"She was all over him, man. Felicity was so mad, I thought she was going to kill her. She got lucky just getting a black eye."

"Why didn't Ricky leave the party with her?"

"We get paid by the hour. If we're not there, we don't get paid. Ricky said he couldn't afford to miss out."

"But you could?" Olivia queried.

"Ricky's got student debts. I do all right."

"So, what happened?"

"Felicity told me to drive, so I did. We must have gone around in circles for hours. I stopped under the bridge and she started coming onto me. She said it would serve Ricky right if she got a good time from someone else."

"So you had sex with her." Mark nodded, "Then you bashed her skull in."

"No! After we did it, she started to cry. Said she felt dirty. She jumped out of the car and she ran. I got out after her, but she was gone. I wasn't going to spend my night chasing her around, so I got back in the car and drove off."

"You left her out there alone?" Olivia demanded.

"She wasn't my problem."

SSSSSS

"Laquisha Thomson," Munch read out from the file he was holding, "Twenty four years old…fourteen prostitution raps. Busy girl."

"I don't do that stuff no more," Laquisha protested, "I got a job."

"Oh yeah, doing what?"

"I work in a grocery store."

"Which one?"

"Mr Hassan's on 88th Street."

"How long you been banging Mark?" Fin asked.

"Few weeks."

"Where you meet him?"

"In a bar."

"Which bar?"

"I don't know! It really matter?"

"What happened last night?"

"He showed up at my place around three this morning. Said he'd booked us a holiday to France. Said I should pack quickly cause we had to get the plane." Laquisha picked at one of her nails, "I ain't never been to France."

"My heart's bleeding," Munch replied insincerely, "You didn't think it was suspicious?"

"Why should I?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because one of the girls at the party ended up dead last night?"

"Mark didn't have nothing to do with that!" Laquisha protested.

"You know that for a fact?" Fin demanded.

"Yeah, I do."

"If he didn't do it Laquisha, who did?" Cassandra asked from the corner of the room.

"How the hell should I know?" she retorted, "I look psychic to you?"

"You look like a lot of things to me, but psychic? No."

"You dissing me, bitch?" Laquisha got to her feet and glared at Cassandra.

"No-one's dissing you," Fin put his hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down in the seat, "We just wanna know what happened."

"I told you, I don't know!"

"You get anything?" Olivia asked, as they reconvened outside in the corridor.

"Nothing," Fin replied, "Claimed she didn't know anything but said Mark wasn't responsible."

"They all say that," Cassandra said.

"Maybe if you hadn't got her rattled, she might have said more," Fin turned on her.

"Maybe if you had tried a bit harder, she might have said more," Cassandra retorted hotly, "Jesus, it was like watching Abbot and Costello."

"You got a better way of doing things?" Munch said, "Cause from where I was standing you kept your pretty mouth shut for most of that interrogation."

"You were doing so well, it felt wrong to stop you," she replied acerbically.

"Ok, ok," Elliot said, "this is getting us nowhere." His mobile rang and he turned away to answer it.

"Watson admitted taking Felicity away from the party and having sex with her, but he says she consented and then ran off shortly afterwards." Olivia said, "Warner only identified one sample of semen."

"Your ME definitely said she was raped?" Cassandra asked.

"No, we lied," Fin replied.

"So we can arrest him for the rape at least, if not the murder," Munch said, "It's gotta be a start."

"No, it's not," Elliot came back to the fold, "That was Cragen. He says we've got to cut both Mark and Laquisha loose."

"What?" Olivia demanded, "But he's admitted to having sex with her."

"I know, but the order's come from on high."

"The brass don't think he's good for it?" Munch asked.

"It's not the brass," Elliot looked at Cassandra, "Seems _Senator Whelan_ doesn't think he's good for it."

SSSSSS

"Senator Whelan please." Cassandra paced while talking into her cell, "It's his daughter."

"I don't believe this," Munch said, "Not only is he determined to force his family on us, now he reckons he's an expert on forensic evidence."

"You've got to be able to do something," Olivia said to Alex Cabot, who had joined them back at the station, "How can he do this?"

"By bending the ear of everyone high up in the judicial system," Alex replied grimly, "He's got a lot of clout."

"But he admitted having sex with Felicity," Olivia persisted, "He said she consented, but Warner said it was definitely rape. The evidence is conclusive."

"The DA doesn't agree."

"What more do they want?"

"The Senator's opinion is that we can't nail Watson for the rape _and _the murder, then prosecuting for rape alone isn't worth it." Alex replied.

"Even though Watson still committed a crime?" Munch said, "He still raped her even if he didn't kill her."

"The Senate Committee are of the opinion that one person did both acts."

"Based on what?" Olivia declared.

"Based on the fact they think it incredibly unlikely that Mark Watson viciously raped Felicity Charles and then some other random maniac found her and murdered her."

"Watson could have been working with someone, Ricky Brown perhaps," Olivia said, "Watson rapes her, and then lets Ricky finish the job."

"There's no evidence linking Ricky Brown to the scene," Alex reminded her, "All you have is the DNA taken from Felicity which we know will match to Mark Watson. There are no fingerprints on the brick and no fibres on her clothes. The only person in the frame is Watson. For the rape."

"So it's all or nothing?" Munch asked.

"I'm afraid so."

Fin walked over to where Cassandra was still hanging on the phone, "Daddy doesn't want to talk to you, huh?"

She glared at him, "Don't start with me."

"Or what? Daddy's gonna come get me?"

"Why do you hate me so much?" she retorted, "What have I ever done to you?"

Fin had no answer. It was true, she had never done anything to him personally, just royally pissed him off with her lone gunman act and her family connections. At the end of the day, however, she couldn't really help who her father was. He knew that better than most.

"Sorry," he said, before ambling back to his desk.

Cassandra, stunned by the apology, momentarily forgot she was holding and initially missed her father coming onto the line. "Daddy? It's me. What the hell's going on?" She paused, "You can't just pass judgement like that! Mark Watson…yes I realise that but…he admitted that he had sex with her. His DNA is a match, we can get…Daddy, I…hello? Hello?" She pulled the phone away from her ear, "Son of a bitch."

"He stop your trust fund?" Munch asked as she tossed her phone onto the desk.

"He hung up on me."

"Oh my, what a shame."

"Give it a rest, will you please? I'm on your side here. We should be able to convict Watson for the rape."

"Well, we're not going to thanks to Daddy."

Cassandra chose to ignore Munch's comment as Cragen approached, "What now?"

"We still have no idea where Ricky Brown is," Olivia said, more for Alex's benefit than Cassandra's. "No sightings of him at his apartment, at the stables, at the security firm…"

"He's just disappeared into thin air," Elliot finished for her.

"You don't have anything concrete on Brown," Alex said, "Aside from the fact that he was supposedly Felicity's boyfriend and he was at the party, there's nothing that would warrant anything more than simply questioning him."

"What about the college?" Munch said, "Someone there might know where he is."

"Good idea," Cragen said, "Munch, you and Elliot go down there. Talk to his tutors, see if you can maybe find some of these other 'cool' people that Tiffany Lewis was talking about."

"Right," Munch said.

"What can we do about Mark?" Olivia asked.

"Nothing," Cragen replied, "For now, we have to let him go."

"What if he tries to skip the country again?"

"Well, lucky for us, we can confiscate his passport," Alex said, "So he won't be going anywhere."

"Fin, I want you and Cassandra to have another run at Samantha Baxter. Tell her we know how she got that bruise and see if she can give you anything more about what happened after Felicity left the party. Maybe Ricky Brown said something to her, maybe she knows whether Felicity intended to have sex with Watson."

Cassandra looked at Fin and ventured a small smile which he returned.

"What about me?" Olivia asked.

"I want you to talk to Huang, see if we can maybe get a profiler's angle on this. It might help in the long run," Cragen replied.

"I'm on it."

Munch leaned in close to Cassandra as he walked past, "That's H-U-A-N-G, just in case you want to take notes for Daddy."


	4. Chapter Four

"So, what do you think?" Olivia asked Dr George Huang as they sat drinking steaming hot lattes in an all night café, "Can you give us anything?"

Huang looked at the case file in front of him, "Well, your killer's organised judging by the ritualistic way he killed Felicity. Making her kneel in front of him while he hit her over the head. It shows a certain restraint."

"But that jars with the rape, surely?"

Huang nodded, "Whoever raped her was in a frenzy. That's why she was so badly torn. But that doesn't mean that the rapist and the killer can't be the same person."

"How so?" Olivia took a sip of her coffee.

"It's the rape that excites him. Once that's over, he's back in control, ready to execute the next step."

"Killing her." Huang nodded, "But if he's so organised, why just leave the body? Why not bury her somewhere so we can't find her?"

"That could be part of his psychosis. By not hiding the body, he's portraying his sense of power, strength. It's like he's thumbing his nose at the police."

"Giving us the finger more like," Olivia replied wryly, "So, how do we flush him out?"

"You have to give him credit, kudos."

"Kudos?"

"He needs to feel as though you admire his crime. That way, he's much more likely to come further out into the open."

"Do you think it could be Ricky Brown?"

"Fortunately, that's _your _job," Huang replied. "How you getting on with Cassandra Whelan?"

Olivia stared at him, "How do you know about her?"

"Law enforcement's a hotbed of gossip," he teased her, "Everyone's talking about it."

"She's a bit of a maverick," Olivia admitted, "Going off on her own at the beginning they way she did, but, deep down, she seems to be ok. Munch has a real problem with her." Huang raised an eyebrow at her, "Ok, maybe we all haven't exactly been the perfect welcoming crew, but…"

"But…?"

"Stop it," she lifted her cup again, "You're making me feel guilty."

SSSS

It was the following morning before the others set about the tasks Cragen had given them. Upon realising how tired they all well the night before, their boss had told them to go home and get some rest, on the proviso that they turned up bright and early the following morning. As the hands of her watch moved to nine am, Cassandra was sitting with Fin outside Samantha Baxter's apartment. They had knocked earlier, but had gotten no reply, so they decided to wait. There was a slight air of tension in the car, but it was nothing in comparison to the abject hostility she had experience the previous day and for that at least, she was thankful.

"You get a hold of your father?" Fin asked suddenly.

"No," she replied, "he's been avoiding my calls. He always does this when he thinks he's done something I'll disapprove of."

"Doesn't sound as though he's as much of the boss in your relationship as he'd like people to think."

"Oh believe me, he is. But just occasionally, he has a crisis of conscience." She rubbed her eyes, "You used to be in Brooklyn Narcotics, didn't you?"

He looked over at her, "You been looking me up?"

"No," she laughed, "my partner told me before I left. It's amazing how you can work in the same district as someone and yet never meet them."

"Different squads, different stations, it happens," Fin replied, "Besides, reckon I would have remembered you."

"Why, because I'm the politically equivalent of a rat?" Her tone was harsh.

"I didn't mean that."

"Sorry," she sighed, "For all the people that don't seem to trust me, I trust everybody else even less."

"The other's will come around eventually."

"Yeah, I'm just waiting for the big hug from Munch."

Fin laughed, "You gotta learn how to handle him."

"I'm sure he'd like to handle me, right out of the station. Olivia and Elliot could give him a hand."

"Look, it's gonna get better. It's just hard to get past the whole Daddy thing."

"You seem to have managed it," she looked over at him, "Or is this all some huge ploy to get me on side and then destroy me?"

"Cassandra…"

"Call me Cassie. The few friends I have do."

"Cassie." Fin looked at her, and for the briefest of moments, their gazes locked in mutual understanding.

Cassandra's attention was suddenly diverted by movement on the street in front of them, "There's our girl."

"Got it," Fin replied as they both climbed out and hurried across the street to where Samantha was slowly climbing the stairs to her building, "Samantha!" She stopped but didn't turn around.

"Been anywhere nice?" Cassandra asked as they came up behind her. "We've been looking for you." Samantha didn't reply, "You know, it's polite to turn around when the police are talking to you." She grabbed Samantha's arm and swung her around. "Oh my God."

Samantha's face was bruised and bleeding, tears streaming down her cheeks, "Please…please…"

SSSS

"Ricky Brown? Yeah he was supposed to be in my tutorial group this morning, but he didn't show up. What's he supposed to have done?"

"We want to talk to him in connection with an incident at the Waldorf on Sunday night," Elliot explained.

"The murder of that girl?" Ricky's tutor looked surprised, "You don't think Ricky had anything to do with it, do you?"

"What can you tell us about him?" Munch dodged the question.

"He's a popular kid," the tutor explained, "has a lot of friends on the course, particularly female ones. He works hard and I fully expect him to do well."

"Who are his closest friends?"

"Well, I did see him with the Charles girl once or twice. She was always accompanied by another girl, petite, dark hair."

"This girl?" Elliot showed him Samantha Baxter's photograph.

"Yeah, that's her. There were always a couple of other girls who I don't know."

"What about other guys?"

"That was the thing," the tutor shook his head, "Ricky didn't seem to have male friends, not here anyway. He either kept to himself, or he hung around with the girls."

"Did he participate in any extracurricular activities?" Munch asked.

"Like what?"

"You know, soccer, music…"

"Now you mention it, he's a big rap music fan. There was a charity talent contest held on campus about six months ago and Ricky did a spot. He was good from what I remember."

"He spend time at any studios?" Elliot asked.

"No, but I did hear him talk about a club one day in class. I can't remember the name of it, but I think it's a rap club."

"Thanks for your time," Elliot clapped him on the shoulder just as his cell started to ring, "Maybe if we identify this club, we can find Ricky. Yeah." He paused, "When? Ok, thanks." He hung up.

"Problem?" Munch queried.

"That was Fin. Samantha Baxter's been assaulted."

SSSSS

"Hey Samantha," Cassandra said gently, as she and Fin entered the hospital room where Samantha had been taken, "How are you feeling?"

Samantha shrugged, "Ok I guess."

"Can you tell us what happened?" Samantha looked away, "Who did this to you?"

"I can't tell you," she replied, her lower lip trembling.

"Why not?"

"If I do, they'll kill me!"

"Who?" Fin asked. She didn't reply, "Look Samantha, we only want to help you. We know Felicity gave you the black eye at the party." Samantha looked up quickly, "Tommy told us."

"Tommy should learn to keep his mouth shut," she replied shakily.

"We know that Felicity thought you were coming onto Ricky," Cassandra explained, "and we know she left the party with Mark Watson. What happened after that?"

Samantha sighed, "I just hung around, you know, drank some more."

"Did you talk to Ricky?"

"I guess."

"Did he say anything about Felicity leaving with Mark?"

"He said Mark was welcome to her."

"Did he seem angry?" Fin asked. Samantha shook her head, "Was he at the party with you the whole time?" She nodded.

"So what happened this morning?" Cassandra pressed.

Samantha paused, as if contemplating whether to tell, "I went to the corner store to get milk," she said, "and when I was coming out, I saw Ricky." She took a deep breath, "He wanted to know what I had said to the cops about Felicity. I told him I hadn't said anything, but he wouldn't believe me. He said Mark had been questioned and that the information had to have come from either me or Tommy."

"Where does Ricky hang out?"

"He likes to go to this club, Malucci's. He's there almost every night."

"Did Ricky assault you?" Samantha shook her head, "Then who did?"

"It was Mark."

SSSSS

"That's one rape and one assault. Surely we can bring him in now?" Olivia said, when they had all returned to the station.

Alex shook her head, "As far as the DA is concerned, Mark Watson is still untouchable."

"This is a political game, Alex!" Munch declared, "I could understand if the state was getting something of giving him this twisted form of immunity, but we're not getting jack shit!"

"I understand your frustration," she replied, "but at the moment, there's no movement on that angle. The DA's office and the Senate Committee are sticking to their guns."

"I bet they are," Munch glared at Cassandra again.

"The question is, where do we go from here?" Cragen asked.

"We need Ricky Brown," Alex said, "He might be able to give us something useful. Right now, we're nowhere near even being able to suggest Mark Watson killed Felicity Charles, which is the one thing that would make the DA reconsider."

"Are we thinking Ricky killed Felicity?" Cragen asked.

"Don't see how," Elliot said, "According to Samantha, he was at the party the whole time. The only person we know that was anywhere near Felicity at the time of her death is Mark Watson."

"Well we know Ricky and Mark were as thick as thieves," Olivia said, "and Ricky had no problem with Felicity going off with Mark, maybe he's pulling the strings."

"Only problem is, we don't know where he's hiding out," Alex said.

"Samantha told us that Ricky liked to hang at this club, Malucci's," Fin relayed.

"Never heard of it," Cragen replied.

"It's an R 'n' B, rap club," Fin filled him in, "very popular with the kids."

"You know this how?" Munch asked.

"I got my sources."

"That would tie in with what Ricky's tutor told us about Ricky liking rap," Elliot said.

"So we go in there and bust him," Munch said.

"I doubt he'll give anything up if you arrest him," Alex said, "He's got nothing to gain by talking. He's not in the frame for the rape or the murder, and he's unlikely to drop Mark in hot water."

"What are you suggesting?" Olivia asked, "Undercover?"

Alex shrugged, "It might be the best option. Whoever goes in can get close to Ricky, maybe get him to loosen up and talk." She looked at Elliot.

"Don't look at me," he replied quickly, "Fin's got the undercover experience."

"What about you?" Fin looked at Munch.

"Please," he replied, "Do you really think I could pass for some young, hip hop loving rapper?"

"Young, no. Hip hop loving rapper on the other hand…" Cassandra said.

"Very funny. I'd like to see Daddy's face if you were going undercover. He'd probably make you do a piece to camera first."

"Fin, can you do it?" Cragen butted in.

Fin nodded, "Sure, but I'll need back up."

"The rest of us will be stationed outside and you'll be wired."

"I meant inside," Fin continued, "I'm gonna need a girl."

"What the hell for?" Munch demanded.

"For appearances."

"Well, I'm out," Olivia said, "my clubbing days are long done."

"I'll do it," Cassandra said. The others looked at her, "What?"

"You sure?" Cragen asked, "You don't have to."

"I want to," she insisted, "I want to get this guy and we have to sweet talk Ricky to do it, then I'm ready."

SSSS

That evening, having been briefed on the operation and wearing the tightest top and shortest skirt known to man, Cassandra was having a final conversation with Fin before they went in.

"You sure you'll be ok?" he asked her.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" she demanded. "I'm not a kid."

"Just checking."

"Well don't," she replied, "Let's just go in there and get this done." Deep down, she was nervous, knowing that part of her was only doing this to show the others that she could, but she would be damned if they were going to know that.

"Ok," he said, "now, I'm gonna have to touch you."

"Excuse me?" she was momentarily caught off guard.

"Touch you," he repeated, "You know, for effect."

"Effect."

"It's a nightclub, you're supposed to be my girl. I don't put a hand on you all night, it's gonna look suspicious."

"Oh," she said, catching on, "Oh, yeah, right. Sure, that's ok."

"If at any point, it gets hairy, we get out. We wanna talk to this guy, but we don't wanna get killed in the process, ok?"

"Sure," she said, "It's going to be great."

In the car on the way to the club however, Cassandra was starting to wonder if it would be so great after all. She had never been involved in any undercover work before and she was worried she would blow it. Fin seemed totally unconcerned. He was already getting into character it seemed, his hand resting on her knee in the car. She self-consciously pulled her skirt down at the front, but it made little difference.

When they arrived at the club, they checked their wires once more, and Cassandra glanced over quickly at the van parked across the street, where she knew the others were listening. Before she could blink, however, she and Fin were at the door to the club, jumping ahead of the queue. Fin said something to the security guy on duty, and slipped him some money, before taking her hand and pulling her inside.

The club was noisy and the lights low, so that she could barely see her hand in front of her face. Her only guidance, was Fin's hand in hers, warm and comforting.

"Did you know that guy?" she yelled.

"What?"

"The guy on the door!"

"Old friend," was all he would say, "Drink?"

"Sure," she replied, thinking she was going to need it. They headed for the bar, all the time scanning the crowd for Ricky. There seemed to be no sign of him, and when Fin handed her her drink, she nervously took a large gulp.

"Relax," he said in her ear.

"I'm trying," she replied, "but I've never done this before."

"You're doing fine baby." He wrapped his arm around her waist, placing his hand on her lower abdomen. Cassandra felt a slight tingle, but she tried to ignore it. They wandered through the crowds, trying not to look too obvious, and were about to give up altogether, when Fin suddenly tightened his grip on her, "There."

She followed the direction of his gaze and, sure enough, there was Ricky Brown. He was sitting on one of the plush sofas at the back of the club, his arms around two girls. As they watched, he turned to whisper in one of their ears and they both laughed.

"What do we do now?" Cassandra asked Fin.

"Follow my lead," he replied, moving over towards the table, "Ricky? Ricky Brown? How you doing, man?"

Ricky looked up and stared at them, "Do I know you?"

"Sure, man, I'm in here all the time. We talked last time, remember?"

Ricky looked slightly unsure, "Yeah, sure. What's your name again?"

"Fin."

"Oh yeah, Fin. I remember you!" Ricky grinned and Cassandra tried not to show her disbelief, "You were at the rap-off too, weren't you?"

"Sure was. That shit was fly."

"I hear you," Ricky's gaze shifted to Cassandra, "Who's your girl?"

"This is Cassie," Fin pulled her against him, "Picked her up a few nights ago. Ain't she about the sexiest thing you ever seen?"

Ricky nodded, "Come sit here, baby." He patted the space beside him.

Cassandra looked at Fin who nodded, "Go on, baby." She moved forward and slid in beside Ricky, Fin on her other side.

"So, Cassie," Ricky said, his gaze flickering down to her chest, "You must be a model, right?"

Cassandra nodded, "Yeah. How did you guess?"

"You got that sexy look."

"Didn't I tell you?" Fin said, his hand on her thigh.

"You a typical model?"

"In what way?" she replied.

"Do a line or two, screw a few photographers…"

"What do you think?" she replied coyly.

Ricky leaned in closer to her, "I think that I would like to get to know you a whole lot better."

Cassandra laughed nervously, "As tempting as that offer is, I'm afraid I'm already spoken for." She leaned back against Fin, grateful for the feel of him there behind her.

"Shame," Ricky sat back, "Reckon we could have a lot of fun together." He put his hand on her other thigh and ran it up to the hem of her skirt, "A lot of fun."

"Is Mark here?" She asked quickly, and then regretted it.

Ricky's eyes grew dark, "You know Mark?"

"Sure," she bluffed, "me and Mark go way back. When Fin spotted you, he told me you were a friend of Mark's. Isn't that right, baby?" she turned to Fin, who nodded.

"I see," Ricky stared at her, "No, he's not here."

"Shame," she replied, "haven't seen him around much. Just wondered how he was doing."

Ricky paused, "Will you excuse me a minute?" With that, he stood up and disappeared into the crowd.

"Shit," Cassandra said, turning to Fin, "He's rumbled us. I shouldn't have jumped in so quickly about Mark, I'm sorry."

"Relax baby," he told her again, "you're doing fine."

"Any normal boyfriend would be more jealous about another guy touching his girlfriend," she challenged him.

"Any normal boyfriend would be touching his own girlfriend more," he replied.

"Touch me then," she said boldly, "make it look real."

Catching Ricky out of the corner of his eye, Fin slid his hand up between her thighs, his fingers brushing her thong panties. Cassandra's breath caught in her throat and she found herself edging closer to him on the couch. His eyes were saying 'trust me,' and she nodded imperceptibly as he leaned in and kissed her, gently at first, and then harder as the kiss caught fire. Fin slid back on the couch and, taking his hand from between her legs, he pulled her onto his lap so that she was facing him. Still kissing, she ground her pelvis against his, feeling as though she was drunk, knowing she would have been willing to strip naked then and there and let him take her.

"Don't let me interrupt," Ricky said, sitting back down next to them.

Fin and Cassandra broke apart as if they had been scalded. She climbed off his lap as quickly as possible and sat back down on the couch, fighting to catch her breath. She brushed her hair out of her face and turned back to Ricky.

"Sorry about that," she smiled, "but what can you do when the urge takes you?"

He grinned at her, "You that hot and heavy with Mark?"

"I might have been."

"He never mentioned a hot little thing like you."

"Guess I was his little secret," she replied, as Fin kissed her shoulder.

"Yeah. Pity he's getting such a hard time from the cops."

"Cops?" Fin asked.

Ricky nodded, "They think he's involved in Felicity Charles' murder."

"No way!" Cassandra exclaimed, "Why would they think that?"

Ricky shrugged, "He was working security at the party. Go figure. Cops like to finger you for whatever they can."

"Is he involved?" Cassandra asked.

Ricky looked at her, "Well you know him, what do you think?"

She paused, "He doesn't seem the type." Fin's cell rang and he stood up to answer it.

Ricky moved closer to her on the couch and leaned in to whisper in her ear, "You're good. Particularly the little sex show." He stroked the back of her neck with one hand, the other pressing against her stomach so as to muffle the hidden microphone.

"Sorry?" she asked.

"I know who you are, Cassandra." She stiffened and he tightened his grip, "Leaving aside the fact that you've been on TV, you've got cop written all over you."

"Ok," she said, "then you know we've been after Mark." Ricky nodded, "What can you tell me?"

"Only that it's in your best interests to leave well alone," he stroked her throat, "there are things you don't know, things about your own father."

Fin came back over and held out his hand, "Baby, we gotta go."

Cassandra paused, still looking at Ricky, wanting to know more about what he was talking about and what he knew about her father.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Cassie," Ricky said, "give my best to Mark if you see him before I do."

Cassandra nodded and then stood up, taking Fin's outstretched hand. She glanced back at Ricky as Fin led her away from the table and he was sitting smiling after her. She didn't say anything until after they were outside.

"What happened?" she asked, meaning not just the phone call.

"It was Olivia," he told her as they crossed the road towards the van, "something's gone down." The van doors opened and they climbed inside, Cassandra all too conscious about being wedged so close to Fin.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"We've got another vic," Olivia told them, "Cragen just got a call to say Samantha Baxter's been murdered."

"Couldn't have been Ricky, he's been in there the whole night," Fin said.

"We're thinking Mark Watson."

Munch looked at Cassandra, "You get anything? We lost sound towards the end."

She shook her head, "No. He didn't tell me anything."

TBC - Thanks for all the reviews so far!


	5. Chapter Five

I don't own SVU characters – only Cassandra and all other original characters! Hope you'll continue to read and review!

When Elliot and Olivia arrived on the scene, there were already cops from Homicide there investigating. As they crossed the wasteland where Samantha's body had been dumped, both felt a slight feeling of guilt, as if they should have done more to protect her. Warner was already there and she looked up as she heard them approaching.

"You know her?" she asked.

"Samantha Baxter," Olivia supplied, "She was Felicity's friend. What happened to her?"

"Almost identical to Felicity," Warner replied, "She's been forcibly raped and then struck over the back of the head with a brick," she moved Samantha's leg to expose her knees, "Gravel."

"He made her kneel," Elliot said.

"Looks like it."

"Anything else?"

"Your boy didn't wear a condom again, so if it's Mark Watson, the DNA should match from Felicity."

"What kind of idiot is this guy?" Olivia exclaimed.

"If it's him," Elliot said.

"Well, who else wanted to shut Samantha up? She's already told us that Watson assaulted her. Looks like he finished the job this time." She looked down at Samantha's face, peaceful in death.

"Let's hope this give the Senate committee enough of a reason to let us arrest Watson," Elliot replied grimly.

"Let's not give them the chance to say no," Olivia said, "let's go get him right now."

"Liv, we can't do that. Not without a warrant."

"Elliot, he murdered Samantha and probably Felicity too. How much more do you need?"

"Look, I'm as frustrated as you are," her partner replied, "but we need to do this by the book if we want to make to stick. Let's go back to the precinct, see what the other's have got and call Alex, ok?"

Olivia nodded, "But we can't let him get away with it this time."

"Don't worry, we won't."

SSSS

"About what happened in the club," Fin said as he and Cassandra made their way to Samantha's apartment.

"It's fine," she replied quickly, "If anything, I should be apologising to you."

"I came on a little strong," he continued as if he hadn't heard her, "I shouldn't have…I mean, where I put my hand…you know…"

"Fin, honestly, forget it," she insisted, "I'm the one who practically jumped on you. We were doing it for show and it got a little out of hand, no big deal." She stole a look at him, "You don't regret it, do you?"

"No, I'm just saying…"

"Because, I think it had the desired effect," she rushed on, "I think it made us more believable towards Ricky." She failed to mention that Ricky had seen right through them, "Like you said, if you didn't touch me all night it would look suspicious."

Fin looked at her, "Long as you're ok with it."

"I'm fine," she replied brightly, "Hey, why don't we go get a cup of coffee later? You know, debrief?"

"Ok," he replied as they reached Samantha's door, "Why not?" He slotted the key the Super had given them into the lock and pushed the door open. The apartment was meticulously tidy, with not one thing out of place, hardly a typical student flat.

"You've got to give her credit," Cassandra said, wandering into the bedroom, "It's tidy."

"When I was her age, I lived in a pigsty," Fin said, "dirty laundry, dirty dishes, papers everywhere…"

"As opposed to now where you're Mr Houseproud?"

"Don't knock it til you've seen it," he said, coming in to join her, "I suppose you lived in a palace."

"Hardly," she replied wryly, "My father didn't become Senator until I was eighteen. By that time I was already at college. They call it the Senator's mansion and I don't even have a room."

"Thought only Governors got mansions?"

"This is my father we're talking about," she reminded him, "he's hardly going to settle for a two-room walkup in Queens." She opened the drawers next to Samantha's bed, "No contraceptives."

"Not all women are well prepared," Fin said, walking into the bathroom and checking the cabinets, "None in here either."

"Not all men carry them," Cassandra said, "Sometimes, if we women didn't think ahead, none of you would get any action." She glanced around, "No sign of a struggle."

"Bed's not made," Fin noticed, coming back in.

"Now that _is _a typical student thing," Cassandra replied. She wandered over to the small desk at the window. It was covered with books and papers, spidery handwriting over every square inch of space. She picked up a full, blank notepad that was sitting on the chair, "Top page has been torn off."

"Could be for anything."

"Sure, but the lab could take a look anyway," Cassandra put it into an evidence bag, "Anything else you want to bag?"

"Nothing that would seem to indicate a connection to who her killer was. Don't even see anything relating to Ricky or Mark."

"Well, Ricky was with us, so once Warner can give us a time of death, we'll be able to either eliminate or incriminate."

SSSSS

"Warner says Samantha was killed round between nine and eleven," Olivia said, "That rules Ricky out. He was in the club during those hours."

"That leaves Mark," Cragen said. "We know his whereabouts?"

"Helpfully, no-one's seen him since we let him and Laquisha Thomson go," Munch replied, "They've not been back at her apartment or his."

"So where are they?"

Munch shrugged, "Relaxing at one of New York's many fine hotels?"

"Is Mark still the best we have?" Elliot asked.

"Well, he's the only one to be connected to both Samantha and Felicity," Olivia replied, "They were both killed in the same way, it has to be the same killer. Mark already confessed to sleeping with Felicity. Warner's running the DNA from Samantha to see if it's a match."

"If it is, we bring him in. I don't care what the Senate Committee has to say about it," Cragen said, shooting a look at Cassandra, "Did you talk to Samantha's parents?"

"Her mother's an alcoholic, claims she hasn't seen Samantha in years. Didn't seem to cut up about it," Elliot said.

"Not that we could really make out much of what she was saying given that her lips were practically glued to a vodka bottle the whole time we were in," Olivia added.

"Ok," Cragen said, "the only other person connected to all of this is Ricky Brown. Elliot, Olivia, bring him in and talk to him. Maybe he knows Mark's whereabouts, not to mention the fact he spoke to Samantha the morning she died. Right now he's up to his neck in it. Cassandra," he turned to her, "is your father back in the city?"

"I've no idea," she replied, "he's been avoiding me ever since the whole Mark Watson thing first came up. He won't answer or return my calls."

"It would help if we could find out what the Committee's thing is with Watson," Cragen continued, "they don't seem to be breaking ranks and telling anyone here, but your father might tell you."

"You want me to pump him for information?"

"Kind of like the rat turning on itself," Munch injected sardonically.

Cassandra ignored him, "I'm not sure if it would help. I doubt he'll tell me anything now that I'm on the case."

"Try and get in touch with him," Cragen urged, "Munch, Fin, go through Samantha's phone records, see if she was making any calls we should be aware of. Check her bank records too. Someone must know something about this girl."

SSSSS

"I didn't kill nobody," Ricky said when he was sat in the interrogation room, "I didn't kill Felicity and I didn't kill Samantha."

"No-one's suggesting you did, Ricky," Olivia said, "we just want to know what you can tell us."

"What makes you think I can tell you anything?"

"You're Mark's friend. You were at the party with both Felicity and Samantha. There's a lot of dots joining to you."

"You can't trick me into saying anything," he said, "I'm not stupid. I see through your little games."

"Games?" Elliot echoed.

"Like sending the senator's daughter into the club. That was really dumb. I mean, who in the right mind wasn't going to recognise her?"

Elliot and Olivia exchanged glances, "So you clocked her then, huh?" the former said.

"Man, it was so obvious. She looked a bit rattled when I told her, mind you. You really should use more experienced undercover officers in future."

"Going back to Mark," Olivia re-steered the conversation, "Do you know where he is?"

"You're trying to pin all this on Mark, but it won't work."

"Why's that?"

"It just won't. Mark's untouchable."

"We think he killed Felicity and Samantha after having sex with them. We also have a statement from Samantha saying he roughed her up the morning she died," Olivia said, "That's quite a lot of evidence pointing towards him."

Ricky sat back in his chair and surveyed them, "I'm telling you, you can't touch Mark, and he knows it."

"Where is he?"

"Sorry," Ricky crossed his arms, "Now, if you want to ask me anything else, I think I'd like a lawyer."

SSSS

"Why didn't you tell us Ricky had rumbled you?" Olivia demanded.

Cassandra, her cell phone pressed to her ear in an attempt to track down her father, turned and looked at her, "What?"

"Ricky says he knew you were a cop."

"So what if he did?"

"He also said you looked pretty concerned when he told you he knew. Why didn't you say that he had guessed?"

Cassandra snapped her phone shut, "What would have been the point Olivia? It wouldn't have changed the fact that we didn't get anything."

"It matters because you kept it from us!"

"All it would have done would have gone further to cement my reputation in here as a shit detective and forgive me if I don't want that," Cassandra lowered her voice, "I am trying really hard to make all of this work and I don't need grief from you guys."

"Next time, you tell us everything," Olivia said, "We're a team, that's how it works."

"Fine," Cassandra dialled her father's number again, "Dad, it's me, again. Please call me back. I need to talk to you. It's important."

SSSS

By knocking-off time, Cassandra was exhausted. Save for the twenty minutes shut eye she had grabbed in the crib in the early part of the afternoon, she hadn't slept for nearly two days. The words in the file in front of her were starting to make no sense whatsoever and when a tech from the lab had called to say that there were imprints on the notepad stating a time and a place and signed 'M', she had had to ask him to repeat it three times. In the corner of the room, the others were standing talking. She knew they were talking about her, but she no longer cared. The sooner they arrested Mark Watson and handed him over, the sooner she could get out of this hellhole.

"We can't," she heard Fin say, "It ain't right."

"Can't what?" she said loudly, "Can't throw Cassie off a bridge?"

"Don't tempt me," Munch responded.

"We're going to get something to eat. You fancy coming along?" Fin asked her.

Whether he had forgotten her earlier suggestion of coffee, or was merely hiding it from the others, Cassandra didn't know. The easiest thing would be to refuse, to go home to her apartment and spend another evening in front of the TV watching reruns. It would be harder to sit across a table from Munch and attempt polite conversation. She knew he didn't want her to go, and that clinched it for her.

"Sure, I'd love to," she stood up, smiling slightly at Munch's sigh of dismay.

They ended up in _Fabio's_, an Italian bistro downtown. Initially, the conversation stayed on safe topics: the weather, the Yankees, how unrealistic the latest episode of _NYPD Blue _had been ("If Sipowicz was in our house, Cragen would have killed him by now," Olivia had said). Cassandra stayed as quiet as possible, chipping in at various points, but doing nothing to antagonise anyone else, apart from Munch who still looked at her as if she were a deadly pariah. Eventually, however, the conversation rolled back around to the case.

"We have _got _to get Watson," Elliot said as the waitress cleared away their plates, "there's been something going on between all of them and it's already led to two murders."

"I'm surprised Ricky has asked for Witness Protection," Munch said.

"He didn't seem worried," Elliot said, "In fact, he seemed cocky. Said Watson was untouchable." He looked over at Cassandra.

"Why look at me?" she demanded.

"You tell us. In fact, tell us why you _didn't _tell us that Ricky made you in the club."

"Elliot…" Olivia began.

Cassandra felt all eyes upon her. Defiant, she met their gazes, all except Fin's, "Like I told Olivia, it didn't seem relevant at the time."

"You two _knew_ about this?" Munch demanded.

"Do we have to go down this road again?" Cassandra asked, "I made a mistake, I'm sorry. But even if I had told you, what difference would it have made to the case?"

"It's not about the case," Elliot said, "It's about teamwork."

"Yeah, yeah. I've already had the ra-ra speech from Olivia, I don't need to hear it again," Cassandra looked down at her crumpled napkin.

"Obviously you do, otherwise you wouldn't keep screwing up. Otherwise you would tell us things we need to know. I mean, first you turn up at Laquisha Thomson's apartment by yourself, then you don't tell us about Ricky. What else haven't you told us?"

Cassandra looked up again, "There's nothing, I swear."

"Why should we believe you?" Munch said.

"Because I'm part of the team."

"You're funny. This girl's funny," Munch turned to his partner.

Instead of backing him, however, Fin leapt to Cassandra's defence, "Just leave it Munch, ok?"

Munch paused, "What's got you going all of a sudden?" he glanced at Cassandra, "Or should I say, who?"

"Don't start on him," Cassandra said, "this is clearly between you and me, John, it always has been. You don't like me, I don't like you, it's as simple as that. You've treated me like crap since the moment I came here. I admit that I've screwed up, but you haven't let up on me at all, not even once. I don't know what it is I have to do to make you see that I'm on your side!" She willed herself not to cry, but tiredness, and the pressure of the case overwhelmed her, and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

"Ah yes, I see, it's the classic crying technique," Munch said, "I've been married lots of times honey, I know all the tricks."

Cassandra threw her napkin down, stood up and stormed past Olivia's chair, grabbing her jacket from the coat-stand on the way past. She threw open the door to the restaurant and hurried out into the night air.

For a moment, there was an easy silence at the table.

"Way to go," Fin said.

"What? What did _I _do except speak the truth?" Munch said.

"You went too far."

"Excuse me?"

"You've bullied her ever since she came here," Fin said angrily, "She's right, you haven't given her one chance."

"Oh I see, so you're the expert now, are you? What's she doing for you, Fin? Did she do a little 'undercover' work in the club last night?"

Fin got up from the table, grabbed his jacket and fled the restaurant after Cassandra.

"Great," Olivia said, "Who's next?"

SSSS

"Cassie, wait!" Fin caught sight of her at the corner of the block, walking quickly, her head down, "Wait, damn it!"

She pulled up and turned around as he came towards her, "Why are you following me, Fin? I don't need any more aggravation."

"I came to see if you were ok," he replied, "Munch had no right to say what he did."

Cassandra shrugged, "I can't change his mind if he hates me. I just wish I understood why he hates me so much." She took a deep breath, pushing her tears back. She wasn't going to cry, not in front of Munch, Fin…not anybody. "This whole thing just hasn't been worth it. I should never have listened to my father. I should never have agreed to come here."

"Look…do you wanna go grab that coffee?" Fin said.

Cassandra thought for a moment, "Sure you want to be seen with me? Munch'll never forgive you."

He grinned at her, "I'll take my chances, come on." He took her down the street a few blocks to a small coffee shop. An elderly couple were the only other customers, and Cassandra and Fin slipped into a booth near the window. "Don't let Munch get you down," he said as the waitress brought the coffees, "He's all talk."

"Maybe, but it's the _way_ he talks. It's like, he doesn't care who he offends so long as he gets his opinion out there. I mean, he'd never even met me before two days ago and he already had an opinion on me. He hasn't even let me change it." She took a drink of coffee, "although maybe I've just lived up to expectations, that's all." She looked across at him, "You seem to get on ok with him. What's your secret?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," Fin replied knowingly.

"Great, thanks."

"He'll warm up."

"When? In time for my funeral?"

"See, you're even starting to pick up his humour."

"Don't," she shuddered, "Next you'll tell me that we'll end up dating."

"Well, he is in line for a new wife."

Cassandra laughed, "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Well, I don't know much about your private life."

"Yeah, cause it's private."

Cassandra was struck by his sudden change in tone, "Sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

Fin softened almost immediately, "No, I'm sorry. I guess I try and keep the job and my personal life as separate as possible. It's easier that way."

She smiled, "I suppose I'm just naturally curious about other people. It seems like the world and his wife knows all about me. My father's done enough of the 'happy family man' interviews."

"Tell you the truth, I had to ask Munch who your father was when Cragen first told us you were coming."

Cassandra looked at him wide-eyed, "You're kidding, really?" He nodded, "I'm shocked. I thought everybody knew the great Senator Richard Whelan." Her tone was slightly bitter.

"Doesn't sound like you get on as well as you'd like people to think?"

Cassandra shrugged, "Let's just say that being an important political figure has always been the most important thing to my father. Anything else comes second. He plays on things for public support and sympathy. Like my mother's death. It's all part of a game plan for him."

"When did she die?" Fin asked.

"My senior year. My father always says crap like 'it was Linda's spirit that guided me into politics.' Please. Makes me want to vomit."

"Please don't," he replied, "I don't do well with puke." He paused, "I guess any potential boyfriends must have to be pretty tough to go up against him, huh?"

"He's never been that interested in who I've dated," she replied honestly, "I guess maybe if he thought I was serious about somebody he might be interested."

"You're, what, thirty, and you've never been serious about somebody?" he was surprised.

"Have you?" she shot back.

"We're not talking about me."

"Maybe we should be." She stopped and took a deep breath, "I'm sorry. There I go again." She laughed, "Forty-eight hours with no sleep and about a hundred cups of coffee talking."

"It's fine. I'm used to tough women."

"Really?" she leaned forward, "Tell me more."

Fin leaned forward towards her, "What do you want to know?"

Cassandra opened her mouth to respond, when her cell phone started ringing. Pulling back, she took it out of her pocket, "It's my dad – finally. Hello?" Fin sat back, "Yes Daddy, only like a hundred times. Ok. Sure, that's no problem. Nine-thirty. I'll be there. Ok, ok, bye." She hung up, "Well, he's finally agreed to see me. Maybe I can get something about Watson out of him." She gulped down the last of her coffee, "Sorry Fin, but he wants me to meet him at some party downtown, I'm really going to have to run." Regret flooded through her. Damn her father! Just when she was starting to get on with someone!

"No problem," he replied, secretly irritated at the Senator's timing.

"Thanks for the coffee, and for listening," she said, standing up, "I'll return the favour some time."

"I'll hold you to that," he replied, "Goodnight Cassie."

"Night Fin." She held his gaze for a moment, before lifting her jacket and heading back outside to walk the two blocks to where she had left her car. Climbing in, she looked at herself in the rear view mirror and gave herself a shake, "Snap out of it, Cassie. It ain't never gonna happen." She turned on the engine, pulled away from the kerb and headed towards the address her father had given her. It was some sort of political benefit apparently. Indeed, what else would it be?

She pulled up outside at nine-twenty five and turned off the engine. Some people hated lateness. Senator Whelan hated people being early. If she turned up before nine-thirty on the dot, he would be pissed. She leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes briefly. Realising she would be in danger of falling asleep, she jerked them open again and started fixing her hair in the mirror.

As she did so, two figures appeared on the sidewalk a few feet away from her car. They had their backs to her and were clearly arguing. Intrigued, Cassandra watched them, wondering what they were discussing. To her amazement, when one turned side on, she realised it was her father. He looked anything but pleased, his face tight and drawn. His companion was talking loudly and angrily, but she couldn't make out either who he was, or what he was saying. As she watched, her father reached into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out a fat brown envelope. He passed it to his companion, who stuffed it into his own jacket.

"What the hell…?" Cassandra said to no-one in particular. She continued to watch as her father turned and climbed the steps back up to the door of the party and disappeared inside. His companion loitered in the street for another few moments, before turning and heading up the sidewalk towards her.

Cassandra watched in shock and amazement as he drew nearer to her car, sliding down in the seat so he wouldn't see her. It was none other than Mark Watson.


	6. Chapter Six

**All the usual disclaimers!**

Cassandra sat, stunned, as Mark Watson passed by her car. Thoughts whirled around in her head. What had he been discussing with her father? What had her father given him? What the hell was going on? She was in two minds. Should she speak to her father as requested, or should she leap out and arrest Watson? As she was attempting to decide, her cell rang.

"Hello?" she said distractedly.

"Hey Cassie, it's Fin."

"Fin?"

"Yeah, you left your purse in the coffee shop."

"I…" she watched in her rear view mirror as Watson walked further and further away, "I mean I…"

"Cassie?" Concern filled Fin's voice, "Cassie, you ok?"

"I can't talk right now, Fin." She hung up, jumped out of the car and started to hurry towards Mark, "Stop, police!"

Mark turned in surprise, but instead of running, he merely stopped and smiled at her knowingly. Cassandra ran up towards him and pushed him up against the wall of the nearest building.

"Easy there baby," he said, "You don't have to get rough with me."

"What the hell is going on?" she demanded.

Mark smiled, "Don't know what you're talking about Detective."

"I saw you," she said, "talking to my father. I saw him give you something, now what was it?" He said nothing, "Don't make me search you."

Lazily, Mark reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the envelope the Senator had given him. He handed it to Cassandra who ripped it open and found, to her shock, a stack of hundred dollar bills.

"What is this?" she asked.

"You're a smart girl," Mark replied, "What does it look like?"

"Why is my father giving you money?"

"You'll have to ask him."

Cassandra thumped Mark against the wall again, "I'm asking _you_!"

Mark paused, "What was your father doing sixteen years ago, Cassandra?"

Cassandra looked at him, "What?"

"Sixteen years ago, Cassandra. What was Daddy doing?"

"Working as a lawyer in his firm, why?"

"Maybe I should rephrase the question. _Who_ was Daddy doing sixteen years ago?"

"Son of a bitch!" Cassandra slapped Mark who grabbed her by the arms, swung her around and pushed her up against the wall.

He leaned in close to her face, "It's no coincidence that little Felicity ended up dead," he hissed, "Daddy's dirty little secret." He pulled back from her and grinned knowingly at her, "You going to arrest me? Take me in? You know you can't. You can't, because Daddy won't let you."

Cassandra couldn't believe what she was hearing, "What about Felicity? What are you saying?"

Mark pushed her away from him. "Ask him." He pulled up his coat, "I've got somewhere to be." With that, he strode off down the street, leaving Cassandra stunned. She turned and looked back towards the building where her father was currently schmoozing the local big wigs. Determined to discover what the hell was happening, she strode back down the street and ran up the steps to the door. Upon pulling the bell, the door was opened to her and she pushed past into the house.

Cassandra scanned the room, looking for her father, her blood pumping, her heart racing. She moved from room to room, trying desperately to find him, finally spotting him speaking to none other than Roger Charles.

"Good evening Dad, Mr Charles," she strode over to them.

"Cassandra," her father checked his watch, "You're late."

"I got held up." She turned to Roger Charles, "I didn't expect you to be here, Mr Charles."

"Yes, well…" he replied, "How is the case developing? Are you any closer to catching Felicity's killer?"

"Oh I believe we've made a significant breakthrough," she smiled falsely at him, "Dad, can we talk?"

"Of course," Senator Whelan replied, "Excuse me Roger." He guided his daughter out of the room into the lobby, "I assume there's a good reason why you've been calling me every spare moment for the past few days."

"Mark Watson," she cut right to the chase, "We believe he killed Felicity Charles and Samantha Baxter and _you _are stonewalling us."

"I can't discuss committee business with you, Cassandra, you know that."

"Why were you insistent that I was put on this case?" she asked.

"You're a good officer and it's good for your career."

"Bullshit," she replied viciously, "there's something going on between you and Mark Watson and I want to know what. Why are you protecting him?"

The Senator looked suitably horrified, "I'm doing no such thing, and I resent that implication!"

"Then why were you giving him money?"

The Senator looked at her, "I beg you pardon?"

"I saw you!" She glared at him, "Right outside here, you gave him money."

"I have never…"

"I spoke to Watson," she barrelled on, "I saw what you gave him. Why, Daddy? What does he have on you? What's this little secret he was going on about?"

"I don't know what you mean?"

"He was eluding to the fact that you were sleeping around sixteen years ago, that you had a dirty little secret, that it's related to Felicity's murder…" she trailed off as realisation hit her, "Oh my God."

"Cassandra…"

"Oh my God," she backed away from him, "Oh my God, Daddy. You're not…tell me you're not…"

"Cassandra, listen to me."

"You're Felicity's father?"

"Keep your voice down!" he said angrily.

"Oh my God," Cassandra thought she was going to be sick.

"It was a long time ago," he said, "I got to know Georgina Charles after she came to the firm, she…"

"You had an affair with her? You…cheated on Mom…"

"It only happened a few times…"

"A few times?" Cassandra declared, "You got her pregnant! She had a child!"

"Cassandra!" Senator Whelan grabbed her arms, "There was never any proof that Felicity was my daughter."

"Then why are you paying off Mark Watson!"

"I don't expect you to understand," the Senator said.

"You're damn right, I don't!"

"Do you have any idea what it would have done to my candidacy for the Senate if it had come out?" he asked her, "What it would have done to any further political ambitions that I have?"

"Oh, God forbid!" Cassandra spat.

"I would have been destroyed!" The Senator said, "I had to do whatever I could to keep it quiet."

A thought suddenly entered Cassandra's head, a though so terrible that she almost didn't want to voice it. She took a deep breath, "Did you have anything to do with Felicity Charles' death?" She expected an immediate denial, even to be slapped, something to indicate how outraged her father was. She got nothing.

Senator Whelan looked at her without saying anything.

"I…" Cassandra backed away from her father, "I…" she started to feel around for the door.

"Cassandra, wait…"

Cassandra didn't bother. She wrenched the door open and ran down the steps back towards her car. Throwing open the door, she jumped in, jammed her key in the ignition and pulled away from the kerb. She drove erratically down the street, hyperventilating, unsure as to what to do. Her father was Felicity's father…he might have had something to do with…the thought was too horrible to contemplate. Not her father, he couldn't have…" She needed to be with someone, needed to erase the terrible images from her mind. Felicity's dead body, Samantha's dead body, the sound of their screams of fear…Before she knew where she was, she was pulling up outside Fin's apartment.

She banged on the door until he answered it, confusion and concern clouding his face, "Cassie?"

Cassandra didn't give him the chance to say anything else, instead launching herself into his arms, kissing him full on the mouth. She kicked the door closed behind her and Fin pressed her against it. For a brief second, they were both lost in the moment, until Fin pulled back from her.

"What the hell's going on?" he demanded breathlessly.

Cassandra looked at him wide-eyed, "Don't ask me. Please don't ask me."

"I don't understand."

"I don't want to think about it. Please, I can't think about it." She kissed him again, hard, wanting to lose herself in something that would take the images, the horror, the truth away.

Fin was in two minds. One half of him was screaming that something was definitely wrong, something had happened and that the best course of action would be to shake her off, sit her down and demand to hear it. The other half, the half screaming the loudest, was saying, 'screw it,' or rather, 'screw her.' Things could be sorted out later.

Cassandra certainly wasn't letting up. She was already pulling his sweater over his head and starting to unbutton her own, pressing her body against his. Stumbling and tripping, they made their way to the bedroom, shedding clothes in the process. They fell on the bed and for a while, Cassandra forgot what had happened.

SSSS

It was early hours of the morning before Fin got a chance to ask Cassandra about the events that had led her to his door. When he had tried, after their first bout of passion, she had avoided the question, kissed him, ran her hand down under the covers until he forgot what it was he had asked her. Now however, exhausted and spent, Cassandra couldn't find the strength to distract him sexually.

"So what happened?" he asked softly.

Cassandra didn't reply. She was lying with her back to him, his arm across her body. He didn't have to see the look in her eyes. The wheels turning in her mind, reliving everything that had transpired, everything she had discovered.

"Cassie…" he said, "talk to me."

"Why?" she replied, not turning, "Why do you want to know?"

"Cause something's bothering you and I want to know what it is."

"Why?" she repeated.

"Why what?"

"Why do you care?"

Fin didn't respond at first. He wasn't even altogether sure himself. He barely knew this woman, barely knew anything about her and yet, have committed the most intimate of acts, felt some sense of concern for her well being.

"Cause I do," he replied vaguely, "and you wouldn't have come here if you didn't want me to know."

Cassandra turned over to look at him, "You believe that?"

"Well why did you come?"

"To your door or a few minutes ago?" she joked lamely.

Fin wasn't fooled, "You know what I mean."

She paused, "If I tell you something, do you promise you won't tell anyone else."

"Depends what it is."

"No, Fin, you have to promise," she looked at him seriously, "You can't tell anyone."

Fin weighed this up, "Ok, I promise."

Cassandra sighed heavily, "I went to see my father tonight, and he told me something. Something, I can hardly get my head around."

"What?"

"He said…sixteen years ago, he was having an affair with…Georgina Charles."

"Felicity's mother?" Cassandra nodded, "But what does…?"

"He's her father," she said quietly, "Felicity was my half-sister."

Fin sat up, "You're kidding."

"I wish I was," she wailed, putting her head in her hands, "Not only did he cheat on my mother, but he had another child and never told either of us! For the past sixteen years, he's been living a lie, keeping it a secret, just to protect his precious image!" She pushed her hair back from her face, "I knew he could be underhand, but…"

"If he was Felicity's father, surely he'd want whoever killed her to be caught. So why is he trying to stop us talking to Watson?"

Cassandra decided not to mention the money her father had given Watson, "I don't know." She looked at him, "You can't tell the others."

"Cassie…"

"You promised! Plus, it doesn't have any bearing on the case."

"It's an answer as to why the committee won't let us move on Watson," Fin insisted.

"You really think my father confessed to the committee that Felicity was his daughter?" Cassandra snorted, "Don't be ridiculous. He's probably fed them some other cock and bull story. I'll just say that I tried to find out the reason, but he wouldn't tell me."

Fin regarded her for a long moment, "Why did you tell me this?"

"Because I needed to tell someone, and…you're the only one I trust right now." She stroked his face gently, "You said you cared about me."

"Ok," he acquiesced, "I won't say nothing."

"Thank you," she replied, kissing him again, "Do you…mind if I stay?"

"No," he replied, "Don't mind at all."

SSSS

Early the next morning, after a hurried cup of coffee and a final burst of passion, Fin showed Cassandra to the door. He walked her all the way out to the street, pausing to pull her into his arms for a last kiss before she left. Neither of them really knew what they were doing, but sharing in some form of mutual understanding appeared to comfort them both.

As Cassandra got into her car, she never noticed the silver sedan sitting further down the street. The occupant was watching both of them, studying them as if imprinting their images onto his memory. Cassandra pulled away from the kerb and Fin went back inside. The man in the car pulled out his cell phone and punched in a number.

"Yeah it's me. 118 96th Street. Sure, I'll hold," he worked a hangnail as he waited, "Yeah, I'm still here. Oda-what? Ok, got it, thanks." He hung up and dialled another number, "It's me. Yeah, I got a name for you. Detective Odafin Tutuola. Tutuola. Yeah," he watched two girls staggering up the street, wearing the requisite short skirts and heels, "What do you want me to do? Ok, ok no problem." He laughed, "Sure, I know where you're coming from. Any father would want to protect his daughter. Ok, call me when you need the job done."

TBC

Thanks for the reviews!


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